Ever, Something to Say

One of the things I like to say: I blog like it’s 2001.

It’s because I had one back in the days of LIVEJOURNAL. Yeah, I’m fuckn old.

I’m a writer. It’s an art that I don’t want to see die. Writing, reading; creating worlds with simple black letters and words on a page can spawn dreams in someone else’s head…it’s literal magic in this realm. I started a column on a site years and years ago, when I had a Twitter. Yes, me. I signed up to it a long time ago and made about 10 posts before forgetting about it and moving on, the premise remained; over-analytical, mouthy and a flair for words. So…here, in 2022/23, I’m making an effort to branch out into both writing again, and some videos. I’d like to have a bit of fun in that realm for a while. And it would be awesome if you joined me for a bit! I encourage you to follow on alt platforms because no one with an opinion like mine lasts long on YT.

SO FAR>>>>

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

Seeing Red (cowboys)

It’s Christmas and I’m busy AF.

So here is a chapter from RED COWBOYS. This is featured in the epilogue/end of King of Spades.

It’s a re-post.

Back next week!

Trent was drunk as shit. He had left the Blue Tag building knowing he was down for the count. The rest of the night was going to be spent leaning over the toilet in his washroom and sleeping on the tiles. He’d managed to excuse himself, said he was coming back but he knew he wasn’t. He’d gone through almost two bottles at dinner before Number One had given a Yeti a look and signalled him to collect the other bottles nearby and distribute them elsewhere.

He was staying up on the fifth floor of the Red Tag Building. He’d thought getting the whole floor was a pretty good deal for weeks before realising it was probably because Number One didn’t want him infecting other agents with his sudden weakness, his failure to come back from what happened to him overseas and at the Stella Hotel. The thought nagged at him, trying to squeeze through the drunken brain fog.

He didn’t want to be on Level 4 anymore anyway, right around the corner from Number One’s office and Cleo’s old room. He had lived in a massive tent with about forty other guys in the Middle East and before that, mostly slept in assigned cars, dorms and his place on The Outside, but his condo was out of the question. He was smart enough to know he didn’t want to be alone there so Level Five it was.

Everything was blurring in and out of his vision as he coasted down the hallways towards his room, trailing his hand along the wall to remind himself to keep upright while his steps dragged and tempted him to drop. Something about the flicker rate in the mutant-fluorescent lights above was playing tricks on his mind enough to make his guts churn. He knew his room was a few doors up from the far end, well away from the elevator where he had got out but heading that way was proving hard work.

He wanted a rest stop when he hit the halfway point, a few seconds to make the feeling in his stomach go away but a wall came up out of nowhere and blocked his path so he shoved it back with his left hand. The coolness on his palm didn’t budge and he didn’t want any trouble so he stepped back instead and just gave it a dirty look.

He continued the stumbling journey down the hall and repeated the action over and over. Whenever he pushed one wall back it was like it propelled him across towards the other until he was tripping down the hall from side to side like a human pinball. It was great. Drunken haze was so perfect, he was void of everything and he didn’t care. All he wanted was to go to bed, after he’d thrown up a few times maybe.

He laughed and the sound bounced around him, boyish and kind of pussy while his head spun and threatened to dunk him on his ass. He took a long blink and Cleo was there when his eyes shut, her finger on his lips, dark hazel eyes resting on his. He knew what that look meant. Shit, he wanted to kiss her, start something that wasn’t going to finish until dawn.

His eyes sprung open when he crashed into something hard enough to jar his scraped-up elbow.

It was solid and rectangular and taller than him, covered in a thick grey plastic tarp. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been there earlier when he flashed past to change his clothes and race to dinner but he didn’t know. It was almost at the end of the hall, maybe far back enough for him to have overlooked it, it was possible. He swayed as he pulled the corners and yanked the tarp. It stuck a few times, throwing him off balance and making him bow his back. He overcompensated and fell forward when it suddenly came away, slamming his hands out on the glass in front of him.

It was an expensive display case for trophies or fine china; thick glass up front and wooden frames, sturdy enough to take his weight if he’d wanted to climb it for some reason. It hadn’t even shuddered when he’d fallen into it. His hands were pressed up on the surface while everything spun around him, his full weight on it waiting for his balance to return.

He forced his eyes to focus on his dirty square fingernails, move down his fingers past minor cuts and scrapes across his knuckles and then back up again. He pulled away from the case and left white prints slowly waning with the air. Trent saw the contents of the display case behind them and choked, halfway between a gasp and a yelp.

His back hit the opposite wall hard, driving all the air from his lungs, leaving him coughing and unable to get a breath. He couldn’t take his eyes off the case but he was caught, bent over trying to clear his throat and get some oxygen. His eyes were watering with the strain. He hadn’t realised he’d shoved himself backwards so violently until impact.

He could see a grimy female Red Tag uniform with grass stains and dirt on the knees and blood spatter on the arms and chest. Two bullet holes graced the torso area and then one near the shoulder. The words “Agent Cleo Darkrose – Deceased” were printed on a small gold plaque below the glass on the wooden cabinet area of the display case, engraved in thick stamped-out italic font. It looked authentic, it matched his memories.

It was the uniform Cleo had been wearing when she fell from the Stella Hotel and died.

“No, nuh uh, it’s gotta be a replica…but why would they make a fucking replica?” His mind was screaming now,“How did that get here? What the hell is going on?!”

Horror.

Trent turned and ran. He didn’t know where he was going or how long he was going to run for. Something didn’t make sense and his mushed brain couldn’t figure it out.

He had to get away.

It felt like the display case would come after him.

Run. Just run.

He snapped his head around over his shoulder to see if it was chasing him as he tore down the hall, a thick fearful groan oozing from the side of his mouth. When he looked ahead the hallway was getting shorter from the elevator side, shrinking so he was running out of space to go.

He knew this feeling. He’d felt like this before, some cave in the Middle East with the enemy chasing.

The display case was closing in behind him. He was going to die.

His head snapped back again to check its position; it was still coming after him, gaining on him just like he knew it would. Stomach bile rose in his throat as he pushed forward, running harder, larger strides to escape, panicked breaths.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Get away.

He faced the front, too late to notice the wall come up, too drunk to stop himself hitting it at full force then rebounding off and almost taking an eye out when he banged his head on the corner of a drink fountain on the way down. He tasted vomit as he smashed his jaw on the ground.

AUDIO VERSION: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lj6YGA28AhQ

I read to you. Merry Christmas.

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

Unplugged

Ew.

Remember the scene in the original Matrix movie where they find Neo in a pod of goo and unplug him? I’d be lying if I didn’t already hear rumblings and see variations of this but…there is a new disturbing video making the rounds, growing a fetus/baby in an “artificial womb.” In a future-release book (written about 15 years ago LOL) I wrote about something similar. Although the ramifications weren’t/aren’t discussed in the book, they did cross my mind when I wrote it.

I couldn’t help but think of those after this disturbing clip:

The lines are blurring between science fiction/cultural progression/movie-esque bullshit. No wonder there are deranged people out there who think they’re cats or “bunny-selfs.”

A streaming team I watch covered this new idea that’s being brought forth and hoping for investors. It was cool to see something in my head on the screen as I came back into the room, but then I was informed that it was real life. Sort of. The man who put the videos on YouTube is (apparently) a film maker and someone who’s studied in the realm of these kinds of ideas and wanted to combine both projects. The 8 or 9 min feature is narrated by the stereo-typical, almost semi-robotic, calm female voice telling the viewer that this is an upcoming breakthrough.

I yelled futile but logical questions at the screen while the hosts slowly came to their own ideas about the potential ramifications and while the accompanying chat was going crazy. One of the features of this product was to be able to edit genes and stamp out unwanted genes or problematic features in a child’s future. So, you’re baby is in the pod and you find out that it might end up expressing something you don’t like, can’t deal with financially, or you don’t want to spread into the population…I guess you just unplug? There are similar practices that are accepted already; when an older mother tests to determine the likelihood her fetus will have Down’s Syndrome. They’re given the option to terminate if they feel they can’t provide for a child with “special needs.”

How far would you go?

If you could make the child in the pod more intelligent, would you choose to tweak that gene? What if we all did that? Maybe I want it to be athletically gifted, or have a giant d*ck, or a become a musical genius. But we can’t all be smart.

That’s why you’re here.

Your ancestors all survived danger, famine, and years of living in tough times – and even got laid. We’re here because our bloodlines reproduced and they were lucky. The weaker or less fortunate ones died out. This is natural selection and the way it’s “supposed” to go (- mostly, people who had bright futures are murdered all the time and accidents happen) Certain dynasties or bloodlines have ceased to exist due to moving, plagues, idiocy in all its forms. Just a thought to explain the general idea; the latest Covid information trickling out – what if this is another mass extinction in that way, eg: those dumb enough to think the Fauci sauce would save them but ended up with heart problems and died…what if that was natural selection stamping out people who can’t critically think? No offence if you got the poke, it’s just a thought, kind of a joke. #sorrynotsorrythough

One of their selling points was that it would help those who had suffered a miscarriage or someone with fertility problems/maybe gay couples. How much do you think something like this would cost? Is it going to be available for all social and socioeconomic tiers, or only for the upper echelons and Hollywood?

And, on that note, who are the people breeding humans this way? Are there going to be systems in place to prevent pedos or someone with evil intent from growing a group of lambs to slaughter in the privacy of their own home? There will probably be some sort of racket where someone who’s permitted to have this technology at home sell them on the black market for spare parts or the sex trade.

Hey, maybe that company who uses fetal tissue in flavour research might save money this way. Here is the Reuters fact-check article that tries to debunk it. The thing is, some of us are old enough to remember when it was an actual story, interviews with those-in-the-know talking about the patents on flavour made from it.

“Around the year 2001, Senomyx patented several flavor enhancers by using “proprietary taste receptor-based assay systems”, which have been previously expressed in human cell culture, in HEK293 cells.^[2] HEK293 cells are a cell line widely used in biological and medical research, immortalized through a genetic modification removed from the original human embryonic kidney cells taken from a healthy, aborted human fetus in the early 1970s.^[3]The company’s stock declined after PepsiCo reversed a trial rollout of Senomyx ingredients in their sodas in 2016.^{[4] “}

Denying the child bonding with the mother by way of being in her uterus, there are psychological issues which arise from lack of contact with a parent – that’s why there’s time for skin-to-skin contact with both parents of a newborn in the hospital. There are things that money can’t buy.

Ectolife is not a breakthrough idea. You’ve seen similar in movies and in video games and sci-fi books BUT know that this has been happening for decades, somewhere underground in a lab. Technology and experimentation are like this, with patents and rivalries between countries and cultures, you’re not going to hear about it until something is at a stage where they feel comfortable releasing the prototype or cemented idea. That’s why this particular hint at an “artificial womb” makes me roll my eyes a little…Seems like a rando wanting clicks on a video and for people to appreciate his film-making chops or maybe give him a job.

Still, it’s worth a thought to see where you stand on this idea, morally or ethically because similar stuff is coming down the pipeline at breakneck speed.

Links:

https://www.timesnownews.com/viral/artificial-womb-facility-concept-video-offers-creepy-peek-into-pregnancy-in-the-future-watch-article-96197627

https://www.youtube.com/@hashemalghailiofficialchannel

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

Life of the Party

TLDR:

*certain types of crimes have a used-by date due to tech.

*Crime evolves

*Elon’s gon git us all.

*Things not to say if I am murdered. Don’t be lazy.

There are videos about real crimes on a number of streaming services. Women are putting on makeup while telling murder stories for niche audiences (that are still in the thousands.) There are podcasts and docu-series. A lot of them rehash the more well-known stories and put their own spin on them, or update information about the court outcomes and families of victims.

When I was very young, I used to borrow books from the library about the big names; Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Jeffery Dahmer, Richard Ramierez, Ed Kemper, Dennis Rader. One of the librarians thought I was strange, she’d stare at me and generally treat me like crap when we interacted. I also sort of hid the books on killers from my friends and other school kids because it was different then. My friends mostly understood my need to write and have them read it but they didn’t understand my interest in researching when I didn’t have to eg: for a school project.

The other kids were vacuous losers, ~~brought up~~ dragged up by crackheads on welfare.

True Crime interests me because it’s a dying phenomenon. Humans will always come in a scum-flavour, crime will continue through history, but its subject to evolution.

Philip K Dick’s Minority Report is definitely coming IRL. If you haven’t received the warning as you post something with a swear word on youtube, reminding you that your words might violate their terms of service…if you haven’t been shadow-banned for daring to question a narrative…If you aren’t foiled by some sort of pre-crime bot and you do end up committing a murder, you do it knowing that you’re probably going to get caught.

For some, that isn’t a deterrent, or their mental illness is too severe to control. CCTV, GPS, mobile phone towers, DNA, forensic psychology are tools to solve crimes and they don’t allow many loopholes to be able to argue their accuracy. Killers/serial killers still exist, we all watch the news. But the prevalence of killers escaping prosecution is seemingly decreasing, at least in the areas that are modernized and covered in CCTV and incidental surveillance. I expect that to continue, but evolve and become more digitally-based like the crimes popping up already with gamers who kill other people’s characters in-game and steal all their inventory, fraud with micro-transactions and similar.

Maybe once Elon uploads all our consciousness’s to the internet we’ll be murdered in a whole range of different ways!

One of the things that interests me is how when interviewing the friends or family of a victim. The crimes are in different places, committed by different age groups and for a range of motives but the reporter usually gets the same answers from them. If it were a book, I’d think it lazy writing because it’s clichéd and expected. Is it just that people don’t know what to say under pressure? Is their vocabulary lacking? In all this time, through all this crime, this is all we can come up with?

Things not to say:

If I’m the unfortunate victim of a Ted Bundy who slips the net, please never tell people “she was the life of the party.”

The phrase is cliched and passé, and I cringe if someone says it while speaking about a victim. Your victim, your friend or loved one was not like everyone else. When I hear them described as “the life of the party” it’s like they’re just another person and it loses my attention span and any impact. People use this to describe someone who is/was friendly, bubbly…and (probably) laughs a lot. Say that instead! They deserve the extra words, don’t they?

I can be the life of the party. I can also be the quiet one who vacantly nods at what you’re saying while dissociating and drinking all your free alcohol. Don’t lie about me.

“He was such a great guy, he’d give you the shirt off his back.”

Please don’t. I don’t want inherited pitstains.

I believe people are trying to infer the victim was the type of person who would go out of their way to help a stranger. Which is nice, but think about it…if they said he’d give you his pants, it would have more meaning. Guys take their shirts off all the time.

Give me your pants, then I’ll see how much you care.

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

Toxic Masculinity

There was a time in my life when I had four brothers. Prior to that, during and after, my best and closest friends have always been male; from day one of kindergarten, throughout school. This changed to work colleagues, combat sports training partners and more. I’ve always gravitated towards the male population in nearly every circumstance, except maybe healthcare, I guess? It’s usually easier to explain to a woman that your parts (that she also has) are acting the fool, although as one gets older, there are times when you have to let a male in the medical field check under the hood without even buying you dinner first! Heh.

Throughout my life, girls/women have told me (in training for eg) to “go hard, I’m used to it, I grew up with a brother,” but not many had a brother/s to the extent I did. It seems most still had an aura of caution protecting them, like a salt circle around them, someone stepping in and telling the male child to be more careful, or have more respect for the female child. My upbringing was like Lord of the fucking Flies. Growing up around different boys my whole life, different personalities and values, I do feel I’ve had a proper education into the world of the male…as far as a proud feminine, female adult can.

There are some things I’ll never know, there are some things that won’t hit the same as it would for a man, I get that…but it seems I do understand more than the average woman who sounds off on social media and tries to grift off of other equally clueless women looking for something to be angry at.

I remember reading an article by a “feminist”-type, saying that they feared for their life and safety as a lone woman around men. She said it gave her anxiety to get into an elevator with more than one man. She hadn’t been abused or suffering from PTSD due to a male-perpetrated crime but she had a perception that men were dangerous, and I can only assume that this was because of hysterical women on social media and the spin off shows and opEd takes from the #METOO saga.

When my dojo had only been around for a couple of years, I was the only female for most of the classes across the board. It was often me and 14 men in an underground room most weeknights. I have never felt more comfortable or more safe in my life. Every one of those men knew their own strength, knew who they were, and what was expected of them. There was no way any of them would hurt me on purpose to the extent I’d be injured or deliberately assaulted. If anyone came into the gym to (I dunno) hold it up or attack me or anyone else, I know it would probably be taken care of. If I struggled to learn a new technique, I know they’d stop and help me achieve the standard I wanted.

When I hear women shit on men and try to make others believe that masculinity is negative, I see them, my brother, my step brothers, my friends who have been screwed over by the family court system or have their lives ruined after an accusation that turned out to be a total lie because some crazy lady wanted attention.

This harmful concept of masculinity is based on these things:

strength

lack of emotion

self-sufficiency

dominance

sexual virility

(- pasted from one of the articles below.)

BITCH PLEASE!

How is any of this stuff negative to aspire to?

Strength: When I look for my next mistake/next Mr Ever Eden, it’s someone with balls. I like strength, in nearly all the ways that it’s manifested. That means physical, emotional and mental. I want to be around someone who challenges my brain and inspires me to become more intelligent, stronger and more capable by the way they are. Possessing strength is the ability to carry on and not let much change you while living the brutality of a human life. The human experience means you will lose loved ones, pets, jobs, opportunities. You will have regrets and live with things you can’t change, or have to recover from unfair things that are done to you. It’s who you are in the wake.

I appreciate “strong” people. I’ve never gossiped with another woman who doesn’t mention STRENGTH as a trait when describing their ideal partner. He needs to be strong and “take-charge” if/when I can’t, not fill my refrigerator with soy milk and cry because the CGI tiger in the movie dies.

He needs to be a worthy counterpart and strong enough to make up for my weaknesses or holes in my game. Not out-pussy me. A lot of the girls from my old dojo have lamented that it’s impossible to find someone that can “out man” them. I believe this is because we have our shit together for the most part. We’re used to adversity and working to get a result we want. We’re used to taking a loss, bruising egos and taking care of ourselves.

If the person we’re interested in doesn’t have a fundamental understanding of the same things due to his experience, it makes it difficult to respect them enough to trust them. I want people to have enough strength to be able to spare some if someone else needs to borrow it.

Lack of Emotion – If he’s sad, he can tell me about it. If he’s sad, he doesn’t have to tell me shit, until if and when he wants to, or he’s figured out how he’s going to move forward. Let people be who the hell they are. We all process tragedy/bad luck/trauma in our own way. You don’t have a right to expect a certain response from someone when they’re under duress, especially a member of the opposite sex. We have different hormones and responses and that’s before you even factor how someone was raised or their personal beliefs or the way they want to conduct themselves in public. (And maybe if you weren’t such an ass, he’d trust you enough to talk to you about more.)

It’s not just men who get accused of having a lack of emotion. I have female friends who are “closed books,” who don’t like to talk about their issues. They have their own way of dealing. And ask yourself, get right down into the non-biased grain of sand left in you(if it exists anymore with all the propaganda about hating men) and ask yourself, “Would I be attracted to a man/significant other who always cried and talked about their feelings?” The answer is fucking NO.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:DBT_Wise_mind.png

Sometimes my hormones make it so I want to cry and eat a load of ice cream at certain times of the month. I’m a woman. Not always emotional, but we’re predisposed to being more so than men, and if we’re both crying, snot-filled messes all the time, who the fuck is going to step up and make sure stuff runs smoothly? I’ve worked on myself enough that I don’t need to discuss every tiny thing that happens, I’ve healed from abuse, I’ve grown out of silly expectations and I’ve also learned that if you let emotions run away with you…it’s gon be a lonnng night.

There are professions improved when someone is able to compartmentalise or keep track of their feelings for eg: someone active duty needs a clear head to do their job properly, someone who is a detective on a child murder case that has kids at home. In my opinion, it’s a skill to be able to separate emotion from anything else you’re doing. I’ve watched fighters lose when they get angry, when they have a grudge against the opponent. How would it work if an EMT was bawling their eyes out because your kid was hit by a car and it was sad, rather than getting them into an ambulance for treatment? For some people, they already have a way of dealing with emotion that is different from yours or what you think is appropriate.

“WISE MIND” sits between being overly-clinical and overly-emotional. If you can get to a controlled place of response, things work out faster and more effectively.

Men, (or women) you’re allowed to cry, you’re allowed to experience despair to the point of tears, but I understand there might be a time and place. I also recommend talking to a professional sometimes, or to get another perspective or direction to move on from a problem if you’re feeling stuck. BUT if you don’t want to right now, that’s okay. No one should call you toxic for coming across with no emotion, because that’s their interpretation based on their own bias.

Self-Sufficiency – Someone who can take care of themselves, and doesn’t essentially need anyone to help them carry out their day-today, is attractive. It means I won’t have to bust my ass taking care of them. It means they won’t borrow money from me or their mother back home. They know how to operate a washing machine if they have to, and a car, they know how to budget and know when to go to the doctor and eat properly… and generally keep from dying. I have many issues in my slave gig with wives calling up on behalf of their husbands because they’re the ones who “do all of this stuff” meaning banking, updating insurance and things of that nature. Shame on them. What if your wife dies? Do you even know the wifi password? Ugh. Unless you have a injury/disability – wipe your own ass and stand on your own two feet.

Dominance – If you know better than me, then by all means, take point. I like knowing someone superior or capable has my back and knows how to lead. I don’t care about being PLAYER 2. If you’re a 250 pound, 6ft2 man – then yes, you dominate my space by default. I’m a 5ft5 female and you could bench press my dead weight…but who knows what would happen if it’s a battle of the educated mind? All of us like to be the top scorer and “dominate” the field we choose to excel in, male or female. For some, it will be about ego, for others it’s more about achieving a sense of pride or recognition for their hard work. It’s a part of life. You are always going to meet someone more likable in a group or stronger than you. It’s not the concept of dominance, it’s the possibility for a damaged person using it to feel better about themselves – both sexes.

Sexual Virility – How is this a problem if you are involved in a healthy relationship with them? Don’t you want good quality sexy time with your significant other? Men are wired differently and sexuality is a part of that. They’re allowed to want to do the wild thang more than you do. Like the dominance or the strength point, it’s not that there is anything wrong with these things, some of ya’ll just basing it on the scum you’re consistently bedding and calling it “toxic.” If you interpret sexual virility as meaning the man is definitely going to cheat on you, then he’s going to sexually assault someone, it’s because you either read too much outrage culture clickbait posts, or you’ve had some back luck with shitty people.

And, on that point, always remember that shitty people come in both sexes.

I’ve been blessed to know beautiful souls in the shapes of men.

Sources, for anyone with sand in their vagina:

https://theconversation.com/toxic-masculinity-what-does-it-mean-where-did-it-come-from-and-is-the-term-useful-or-harmful-189298

https://www.verywellmind.com/the-dangerous-mental-health-effects-of-toxic-masculinity-5073957

https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-toxic-masculinity-5075107

https://www.healthline.com/health/toxic-masculinity#traits

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toxic_masculinity

https://bigthink.com/the-present/toxic-masculinity-myth/

https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/guides/z3ng2p3/revision/4